


i will be the one to guard the guard

by Spoofymcgee



Series: sunrise, sunset [10]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF CC-2224 | Cody, BAMF CT-7567 | Rex, Bad Humor, Bar Room Brawl, Blood and Injury, CT-5285 | Tup Is Baby, CT-5285 | Tup Needs a Hug, CT-7567 | Rex Needs a Hug, CT-7567 | Rex is a Good Bro, Concussed Rex, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt CT-7567 | Rex, Hurt/Comfort, Little Brothers, Mentioned CT-5285 | Tup/Dogma (Star Wars)/Monnk (Star Wars), Mentioned Dogma (Star Wars), Minor CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Minor Rex/Padmé Amidala, Painkillers, Protective CC-2224 | Cody, Protective CT-7567 | Rex, Protective Older Brothers, Tired CT-7567 | Rex, Worried CC-2224 | Cody, anyway this is just one big hurt comfort fic, im sorry, with some humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoofymcgee/pseuds/Spoofymcgee
Summary: “But I’m a clone,” Rex protests.“You are,” Cody agrees. “And many, many people are finding it harder and harder to justify continuing their treatment as the war goes on.” As more of us die for them. As we laugh, as we live, as we fight and mourn and suffer, he doesn’t say.Something breaks in Rex’s eyes, and Cody wants to cry. I’m sorry, he thinks, and pulls his brother to his feet.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 | Rex & CT-5385 | Tup
Series: sunrise, sunset [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927888
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	i will be the one to guard the guard

It's not as bad as he'd expected.   
Rex is sitting against the wall, cradling his right arm, which appears to have grown a second joint. He scowls when Cody plops down next to him, leans against the wall. Then he winces, and lifts the hem of his torn sleeve to dab at the fresh blood welling up in his split lip.   
“They started it,” he informs Cody, tone laced with upset.    
“Hey, I didn’t say anything,”   
They sit silently for a few minutes. Troopers painted Coruscanti red divert civilians around the alley. The scream of a medevac dies off in the distance.   
“I wouldn’t have,” Rex says, finally. “I would’ve brushed it off as another  _ fucking  _ civilian, ignored him.”   
“What happened?” Cody asks quietly. Rex’s knees draw up to his chest; one ankle is puffy and bruised, but the look he gives Cody is pure defiance.   
“He went for Tup,” he answers, jaw set. “Said a whole bunch of things; I don’t remember most of them. Probably a good thing.” Cody nods in silent agreement.    
He looks over at his brother, seeing, for a moment, not Captain Rex of the 501st, but a tiny blond cadet, forty pounds of multi-directional fury and ready to tear out a Kaminoan throat.   
“Come on,” he stands, holding out a hand. Rex stares at it as though it’s a wild gundark. “We don’t have all night,” Cody says impatiently, and then, remembering that this is  _ Rex _ , heaves a sigh. “I’m taking you back to barracks.”    
“ _ Why? _ ” he asks, confused.   
“Because,” Cody explains tiredly. “There are witnesses and footage to prove not only that you were provoked, but that he landed the first hit.”   
“But I’m a  _ clone, _ ” Rex protests.    
“You are,” Cody agrees. “And many, many people are finding it harder and harder to justify continuing their treatment as the war goes on.”  _ As more of us die for them. As we laugh, as we live, as we fight and mourn and suffer,  _ he doesn’t say.    
Something breaks in Rex’s eyes, and Cody wants to cry.  _ I’m sorry,  _ he thinks, and pulls his brother to his feet.    
  
The streets aren’t dark; they never are. It’s Coruscant, always noisy, always bright. But-   
It’s also the undercity. The wall mounted illuminators are mostly broken, transparisteel ground to shimmery dust by millions of heavy soled feet.    
It pays to have good shoes down here.    
Garish lights flash from open cantina doors, clashing music playing from eight dozen places at once.    
It’s not yet late enough for tipsy strangers, and, as a result, too early for lurking pickpockets with makeshift blasters or crude knives.  _   
_ Rex stumbles on a crack in the pavement. Cody just barely catches him.

"Come on,  _ vod, _ " he grunts. At this point, he's basically carrying him.   
A couple of random civilians pop out of an alleyway. Cody gives them his best 'you'll be running full-kit laps in the rain if you don't get out of my way, Private' look, and they scatter like dust in the wind. 

"Almost there," he tells Rex.  
"M'fine," his brother groans, listing.  
" _ No, _ " Cody tells him, sighing and readjusting. "You're not. You've got two shallow but wide cuts on your abdomen, a moderate concussion and probably a sprained wrist."

"Mhm," Rex agrees, tripping blindly over a crack in the pavement and nearly flailing into a wall.   
"You  _ disaster  _ child," Cody hisses, hauling him into a bridal carry. "That's  _ it.  _ I'm revoking your walking rights."  
He squirms for about a minute, and then goes limp when Cody's fingers drift threateningly close to a nerve cluster. 

It's silent most of the rest of the way to the barracks, and then some dumb  _ sheb _ face decides it's a funny idea to stick a leg out and try to trip him up.   
He dodges, of course, but has to grip his brother tight and accidentally digs his gloved fingers into a crevice slashed in his shoulder. Rex muffles a shriek in his collarbone and Cody's fingers come away bloody.

He tases the bastard.

Non-lethally, of course. He's not  _ that  _ dumb. But-

But Rex is hurt. Very hurt. And Cody's anger boils hot and heavy in his bones, coded into him before he was even an _idea_ , _screaming_ for vengeance. 

"Here," he calls, tossing a contraband bottle of the good stuff over his shoulder. It sails towards the bunk, smacks into the wall and slides down through the little crack to clatter on the floor. Several seconds late, Rex turns his head slowly to follow the path it had carved through the air. "Or not. I'll get it."

"I-Codes."

"Mmm?" he asks, making his way to the bed with a roll of spare bacta bandages to fish the pills out. 

"Codes."  
  
"I'm listening," it skitters away from his fingers, and he wiggles closer to the end of the bed to chase it.

"He's pretty," Rex says after a few seconds. "My general."  
Cody sits up fast enough that he bounces off the bed and smashes his head into the bottom of Waxer's.  
" _ Fuck, _ " he swears, prodding at it gently. "That's going to bruise."  
"I don't know what to  _ do, _ " Rex moans, flopping back onto the pillows like the complete and utter drama queen he is. Cody's got no idea where he learnt all that from. It's certainly not him.

( _ Cody has also, on several separate occasions, proven himself to be a dirty, filthy liar. _ )

"His hair. It's so soft, Cody. And she's the  _ best  _ for cuddles."  
He thinks his heart stops beating for a second. Yes, it's been obvious enough that his baby brother's tripped head over heels for the both of them. He has  _ eyes _ ,  _ ka'ra. _ But he hadn't realized that  _ Rex  _ knew.

Cody'll be the first person to brag about his little brother's vast intelligence pertaining to most matters, but he'll also head the line to admit that anything outside of a teaspoon's worth of the emotional range will give Rex a breakdown.  
_ That,  _ Cody knows he inherited from Wolffe.  
"Remind me I owe Wolffe a knuckle meatbread next time we see him," he says absently, finally snagging the bottle and cracking it open to pour a handful of pills into his palm. "Here. What color do you want?"

"Blue," Rex tells him, looking absurdly dignified for someone who'd been poking at the bacta decorating his lacerated abdomen while waxing poetic about his crush's snuggle capabilities. "Like his eyes."  
"Are you always this fucking lovesick when you get a concussion?" Cody grumbles, slapping Rex's hand away from his wrist as he smears it liberally with bacta.  
"Itchy," his little brother complains, staring at the translucent paste on his arm.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought of that before nearly breaking your hand on that fuckface's jaw," Cody tells him, slithering down to the drawers beneath the bunk and rummaging through them. "Where d'you put my socks?"  
Completely straight-faced, Rex points at the ceiling.  
"In the vents."  
Cody stares a him for a moment. "You're kidding."  
"Nope. Always have dry socks, that's Kix's motto. E's beaten it into my skull."  
  
Cody pins the wall with his glare rather than his injured brother.   
"Why me," he groans, standing, jumping and yanking open the vent cover. He's showered by neatly rolled balls of socks, which are, in fact, very dry. He picks one, and carefully folds them both over Rex's wrist, for extra protection.   
Then he takes his time pointedly tucking all the spares back into his drawers. 

"Whoa," Rex exclaims suddenly. "Mom. How'd you get here?"  
Cody sits up and turns his head slowly. 

"Rex," he says, as calmly as he can manage. "You don't have a mom."  
"That's so mean," the Rex in question wails. "Why would you say that?"  
"Because it's true," Cody argues, trying to keep his voice from cracking into laughter. "You're a clone. You have a genetic donor. No parents."  
"Huh," Rex considers, propping his chin up on a hand. "I guess you're right."

"Is this your concussion, or have the drugs kicked in? It can't've already been twenty minutes?" Cody asks, consulting his chrono and then muffling another giggle at his brother, who's goggling at the air in front of his face and mumbling something about bubbles. "Huh. Hey, gimme a pillow."  
"Why?" Rex asks, immediately throwing himself defensively in front of as much bedding as humanly possible.  
"I'm not going to hit you with it. I'll sleep on the floor, but not without a pillow."

"Why can't you sleep in-um- _fuck_ -er-whatsizface's bed?" Rex questions, possessively clutching the blanket.  
Cody's nose wrinkles automatically as he throws a glance at the top bunk.  
"Waxer? I don't think so," he says, and then chuckles. "Whatsizface?"  
"Hey, 'm concussed. Nd yer not sleepin' on the floor."

He tries protesting, but Rex threatens to come  _ get  _ him, which would not be a healthy life choice, so eventually Cody concedes and gingerly climbs onto the narrow bunk, careful to keep all his limbs to himself.   
With a pained sigh, Rex hurls himself-with an amount of force inconceivable for the half an inch between them-backwards into Cody's chest, forcing the breath from both their lungs.   
"Fuck," Cody says, the moment he can. "You."

"No, thanks," Rex huffs, stealing Cody's arm by the wrist and pulling it over his ribs. "I'm sure General Vos would be interested, though."  
Cody  _ chokes.  
_ "How do you  _ know? _ " he screeches, jabbing careful fingers into his brother's back. 

Rex turns his head just to smirk at him and is promptly asleep about five seconds later, before Cody can fire off the series of excuses he has prepared for situations like this.  
Besides, he and Quinlan aren't even-  
Actually, that's fair. Huh. Maybe Cody has to reassess his opinions on Rex's abilities in ferreting out information.   
Still, little brothers can't be allowed to get to cocky, can they? Cody resolves to pour bleach into Rex's next laundry cycle.

He wakes to the snapshot sound of a holo, and the rumble of a cackle building in Rex's chest.   
Cody, despite all his training and much to his own embarrassment on several occasions, is not a morning person unless there is caf, blasters or land mines involved.   
Ponds has been blackmailing him for  _ years  _ with pictures of him sleeping with the most ridiculous expressions, and, apparently, this is a genetic thing.

"...Ghergh?" He reaches up and plants a hand on Rex's face, trying to push it back down. "Go sleep. Too early."  
"Yeah, yeah," Rex mumbles, and then, mostly to himself; "They'll  _ love _ this one."  
"...who?"  
"Oh, no one," his  _ fucker  _ of a brother answers airily, dangling something grey and vaguely comm shaped in the space above his face.

Cody's eyes snap open, and he grabs with the desperation of a drowning man.

He's too late, and his hand closes on empty air.  
"Rex," warningly, probably with a touch of very badly concealed panic. "Who are you sending that to?"  
"The CC chat," the bastard answers casually, as though he's not about to completely  _ wreck _ Cody's rep for the eternity.

"Rex!"  
"You deserve this," Rex tells him. "My blacks are  _ pink, _ you deserve this."  
"How would I have had  _ time- _ "  
"I don't know," Rex answers. "Maybe your mystical commander abilities."  
"Mystical  _ what  _ now?" He asks, freezing with his hand centimeters away from the comm.

"Alpha would be on my side," Rex says, elbowing him in the solar plexus and leaping over his body to clamber up the bare wall like the cursed monkeylizard of a person he is.   
"No he wouldn't!" Cody answers, once he's got enough air in his lungs to do so. And then, momentarily sidetracked; "How do you  _ do _ that?"  
"Ahsoka taught me," he answers, lounging horizontally on the wall. "Aaand-sent."

" _ Bootlicking _ son of a  _ Sith! _ " Cody yells, launching himself across the room. Rex laughs, and skitters up into a corner. "I'll tell Skywalker! I will!"  
"Tell him what?" Rex asks, with the audacity to be genuinely fucking  _ confused.  
_ "No," Cody says, freezing. "No, no. Absolutely not."  
" _ What? _ " 

"I knew you were an idiot, but I didn't think even you could be  _ that  _ stupid," he answers, almost wonderingly. With a screech of offended outrage, Rex falls off the wall and lands on the laundry pile with a resounding thump.  
" _ Cody, _ " he growls, and it'd almost be threatening if he didn't have a tooka patterned sock clinging to his hair.   
"Absolutely not. If you don't know, I'm not gonna tell you. Ask one of your corporals to record you next times you're high on painkillers. Now c'mon, or we'll miss Waxer's hash browns. And don't worry too much about Tup, I checked in last night and your lieutenant said he's with Dogma. Monnk should be on Corrie in a couple of days, too, so I think it'll be fine."   
And with that, he sets off down the hall.  
"Cody! Cody, what does Monnk have to do with anything? Cody!"

**Author's Note:**

> my... hand slipped?


End file.
